


Compensation

by MoonlightGanache (StardustMacaron)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Drama, Angst and Porn, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Choking, Dark!Tony Stark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demon Summoning, Demon!Tony Stark, Demons, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Torture, horror porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustMacaron/pseuds/MoonlightGanache
Summary: Peter is desperate. He'll do anything to be free of his abuser.Including summoning a demon, even if said demon asks for more than he can give.[This is basically Horror Porn, it gets brutal. Please proceed with caution.]





	1. Transaction

**Author's Note:**

> HI. I'M REALLY NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAY PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
> 
> Please don't read this if you're likely to be squicked or triggered by it, I am BEGGING you.

It’s quiet at home that night. Peter is thankful for that.

A rare moment of peace in the recent chaos of his life gives him a chance to think through what he’s doing. He wonders if it’s really worth it, if it even works.

He thinks back to May’s boyfriend. They’re out together tonight, part of him would like to hope that this will be it, that they’ll break up tonight, and he’ll never see that man again.

He knows better by now. It won’t happen, and he can only swallow down the guilt at wanting to ruin her happiness, even if that happiness is tainted with evil.

He’s at the end of his rope, he can’t take much more of this. He lives in fear of that man now, staying over each night, sneaking into his room, his touch is always too gentle, his voice too soft. It makes Peter’s skin crawl just thinking of him.

He takes a deep breath. His mind is made, and whatever comes of it… He’ll live with it, he won’t have a choice.

* * *

The man (demon?) standing before him is tall, his hair is dark, his eyes are darker. Peter feels almost afraid, but the sense of relief flooding his mind that it  _worked_  is overwhelming.

The man looks at him dismissively, then surveys the room as if expecting to see someone else.

Peter nervously speaks up.

“Are… are you Mr Stark…?” he asks, his voice trembling.

The man looks back to him and raises an eyebrow.

“Take a guess, kid,” he says, sarcasm dripping with venom.

“... I… can you help me…?” Peter asks again.

Mr Stark smiles, like a predator about to gut it’s prey.

“Depends what you need from me, kid,” he says.

“And what you’re willing to give me in return.”

Peter is shaking, but he speaks with pure conviction.

“Anything,” he says.

* * *

Mr Stark is unusually… gentle. Well, for a demon.

“You understand what you’ll need to give me in return… isn’t going to be pleasant for you?”

Peter nods. Mr Stark looks at him with something resembling pity.

He reaches a hand to Peter’s face and traces his jaw with his thumb.

“I’d apologize, but it would be a meaningless gesture,” he murmurs, leaning closer to the boy’s mouth.

Peter feels like his heart is going to burst from panic.

He suppresses the bile in his throat and brings their mouths together.

* * *

It feels like being ripped in half. He can feel it moving inside him, squirming and pulsating through him. He’d been expecting it to hurt, but  _not like this_. Mr Stark’s genitals were nothing but a mess of pitch black tentacles, fleshy and strange in feeling, unnaturally wide in girth and capable of extending too deep inside Peter’s lithe body.

The only relief is that so far, Mr Stark has only penetrated him with one of these monstrous appendages. But as Mr Stark pushes deeper inside him still, Peter feels like screaming.

“Oh, kid, if you can’t even handle this, you’re not gonna like the rest of it,” he says, but his laugh is humourless and dry.

Peter can barely imagine what “the rest of it” could mean, until he feels himself being spread wider, even more tentacles wrapping around his limbs, and he can feel them pressing against his entrance.

Peter starts to struggle, panicking, he tries to scream, and finds a tentacle being shoved down his throat, choking him.

“Sorry, gotta keep quiet here, kid,” Mr Stark says, grunting as he continues to thrust, his hands gripping Peter’s thighs so tightly that he can feel the bruises blossoming under his fingers.

He’s being split open, and that’s not even the worst of the pain.

The tentacles keep burrowing deeper into him, he can feel them in places that they absolutely  _should not_  be, and it makes him feel like throwing up.

A dull ache spreads through his body as his intestines are twisted up and broken by the appendages, he chokes and gags on the one in his mouth as it pushes deeper inside his throat, making bile and stomach acid rise.

He can see black spots in his vision and he feels helpless. There’s a sharper pain suddenly inside him, like a knife breaking through his insides, but thousands of them, small and sharp.

He can hear Mr Stark above him, murmuring something, with an unsettling yet gentle tone to his voice, but all Peter can make out is the blood rushing in his ears.

He’s completely limp. The pain is too intense for him to even consider an erection. He wonders what he must look like. A rag doll, being held up by Mr Stark, with his flesh looking swollen as the tentacles bulge out from the inside.

Quietly, he wonders if it will be worth it. If this will, at the very least, be the last pain he’s forced to endure at someone else’s hands without his consent.

He can taste copper. There’s blood spilling from his mouth as he gags. He wonders how much longer he’ll have to endure this horror. He looks at Mr Stark’s face, and marvels at the inhuman expression on his face. His eyes are black, his teeth resemble a bear trap twisted into a smile more than anything else. There are strange black veins pulsating through his flesh.

The last thought Peter manages before the world goes black is that,  _wow_ , he really did summon a demon after all.

And then, there’s nothing.

* * *

Peter awakes on his bed. He feels exhausted and drained, but curiously, there’s no pain left. He’s in one piece, no scars or bruises or anything. He can barely tell anything had happened to him at all.

He wonders for a moment if it was a dream, but the flashes of memory are too intense, he’s certain it was real.

He jumps when he hears the front door open. May is back.

He walks out carefully, trying to be quiet. He has to see for himself.

He’s not prepared for the sight that greets him.

“Oh, Peter! You’re awake. Tony will be staying the night, if that’s alright,” she says cheerily.

Standing beside her, Mr Stark’s eyes flash with pitch black. He walks towards Peter with a smile.

Clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder, he leans in close and whispers.

“Well, I got rid of him for you,” he says, almost sounding amused.

He looks at Mr Stark's eyes, and sees them bleed into black.

His voice changes tone, and the hand on his shoulder squeezes tightly.

"Nobody is ever going to hurt you again," he says softly.

Peter is sure he must be imagining the gentleness in the demon's words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the most Dead Dove thing I've ever written wow.
> 
> Anyway I have a follow up in mind but it casts Tony in a much gentler light and I'm still iffy about how to write that after this atrocity so who knows what'll happen with that.
> 
> All I can say is, Tony's amusement is not coming from Peter's suffering.


	2. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter can’t remember the last time he got a full night's sleep, and the exhaustion is beginning to get to him.
> 
> Even though he’s fairly certain he's completely safe now… somehow, it almost feels worse than when he was in danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dialogue heavy follow up.
> 
> This one is a bit more on the bittersweet side, though it's still... quite unhappy. It ends on a more hopeful note, anyway.

It only takes a week before things start to fall apart again.

Mr Stark hangs around the house and acts the part of a boyfriend to Aunt May. Peter tries not to act weird about it, not wanting to give away how unsettled he is by the whole ordeal.

Every so often, he’ll watch May squint at Mr Stark for a second, like she’s trying to figure something out. It passes quickly, but the sight of her own uncertainty makes Peter feel guilty.

He has no idea what Mr Stark did to May’s old boyfriend, but she has no recollection of him at all. He can’t say he feels guilty for whatever happened to the bastard, but he does feel bad that his Aunt is now dating someone who may as well have not existed at all last week, and she has no idea that it’s even happened.

That’s not what bothers Peter the most though.

He still has nightmares. He still flinches when people tap his shoulder. He still wakes in a cold sweat and has to bury the nausea in his stomach whenever he has an erection.

Worst of all, he can’t talk about it anymore, to anyone, even if he wanted to.

The man who abused him doesn’t seem to exist anymore, and all that’s left is the memories still rattling around his head. If he tried to speak with anyone about it, they’d assume he was talking about Mr Stark, and if he tried to explain otherwise, he’d sound completely insane.

Maybe he is insane. Peter can’t remember the last time he got a full night's sleep, and the exhaustion is beginning to get to him.

Even though he is, he’s fairly certain, completely safe now… somehow, it almost feels worse than when he was in danger.

* * *

It’s late one night when he wakes with a start, gripping his sheets with white knuckles and breathing heavily. Something feels wrong.

Peter looks around in the dark of his room, and his heart stops for a moment when he sees the shape of a man sitting at his desk, staring at him from across the room.

“M… Mr Stark…?” he asks, sounding equally hopeful and apprehensive.

“Were you expecting anyone else, kid?”

Peter hesitates to answer, because well… Of course he was.

“... Right, sorry, of course,” the demon says sheepishly, and Peter is actually somewhat surprised that Mr Stark can manage that level of sincerity.

The silence between then stretches out, and Peter doesn’t really want to be the one to break it, but the longer he sits there with a strange man in his bedroom, the more he feels his anxiety starting to peak.

“... Did you need something from me?” he asks quietly.

“Actually, I came here to ask you the same thing.”

“What… What are you talking about?”

Mr Stark sighs and stands up. Peter instinctively curls in on himself and pulls his bed sheets tighter around him, as though that will protect him. As though it had ever protected him before.

“When’s the last time you got any real sleep, kid?”

Peter feels kind of ashamed that he actually has to think about it.

Mr Stark lets out a heavy breath and sits down on the end of the bed. Peter flinches at the movement.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Peter can just make out a pensive look on his face through the darkness. He’s almost scared to ask where this is going.

“I can help you with it, if you want me to,” Mr Stark says.

“... Help me how?” Peter would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t curious.

“I can get rid of them. Your memories of him. No more nightmares, no more trauma, well, mostly,” the demon explains.

Peter is intrigued, and he would take Mr Stark up on the offer, except for one thing.

“Mostly?”

The face Mr Stark pulls suggests to Peter that he probably didn’t want the kid asking that particular question.

“It’s easier with your Aunt. Remove certain memories, shuffle things around, impose myself on the ones that had to stay… Tedious, but not too difficult,” Peter nods along as the demon speaks.

“But with you… well. Trauma gets embedded in your head. It’s harder to erase that. I can help get rid of most of it, but…” Mr Stark looks genuinely troubled as he continues.

“You’ll still get these feelings, in the back of your head, like an itch you can’t scratch. It’ll pass almost as quickly as it comes, but you’ll know something is wrong, you’ll just… never know exactly why,” he says.

Peter considers it for a second. It still sounds better than the constant vivid imagery that replays in his head every night.

“The thing is, some people get driven nuts by it, the feeling that they’ve forgotten something horrific and can never quite remember what it was,” Mr Stark says.

“I know some demons who have been summoned to do just that. Erase memories of something traumatic, so that they’ll forget it ever happened and drive themselves insane trying to remember it at all.”

Peter’s heart sinks a little. Of course, it couldn’t possibly be a perfect solution.

“Wait, will that happen to Aunt May?” he asks in a sudden panic. Mr Stark just laughs.

“No, her memories are mostly intact, just with my face in them instead of that dick bag, and once I’m gone, she’ll never even think to question it,” he says calmly.

Peter wants to ask what he means by that, but he’s stuck cycling between the options in front of him. Live with these constant nightmares and his inability to explain his trauma, or have it all taken away from so he can sleep again, but at the risk of slowly going insane because his memories have been tampered with.

In the end, he probably knew what his choice would be even before Mr Stark offered it to him.

* * *

“One last thing, before we do this,” Mr Stark says, looming over Peter’s body.

“You won’t remember any of this tomorrow. Not what I’ve done to you, not that you summoned me, none of it,” he says.

“Are you sure you really want this, kid?”

Peter hesitates for barely a moment before he nods, and closes his eyes tightly as Mr Stark’s turn pitch black above him.

 

* * *

When Peter wakes, he feels strange in an oddly familiar way.

He wanders out into the kitchen and sees Tony, Aunt May’s boyfriend, sitting at the table and eating slightly burnt toast while his Aunt makes a cup of coffee on the bench.

For a moment, Peter feels like he’s forgotten something. He squints at Tony, wracking his brain, but nothing comes up.

He shrugs and decides he must have had a bad dream, so he turns on his heel and goes back to his room to get dressed for school.

He never once notices the way Tony’s eyes follow him, or the pained and almost guilt ridden expression the man’s face.

Not that he’d understand anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hesitated in writing this because I really hate writing dialogue based stuff.
> 
> You can probably tell, since I'm not very good at it either. :T

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the most Dead Dove thing I've ever written wow.
> 
> Anyway I have a follow up in mind but it casts Tony in a much gentler light and I'm still iffy about how to write that after this atrocity so who knows what'll happen with that.
> 
> All I can say is, Tony's amusement is not coming from Peter's suffering.


End file.
